Prince Valiant

'In the days of King Arthur and his knights of the Round Table

'the Christian king of Scandia was overthrown by a Viking traitor

'and escaped with his wife and son across the North Sea to Britain.

'The traitor, Sligon, searched for them relentlessly.

'But years passed, and Sligon had not found the hiding place

'where King Arthur had given them sanctuary

'in an abbey in a remote section of the coast of Britain.'

Father! It's all clear! It's Boltar!

Boltar!

All pirate ships have been ordered to search for you, sire.

Last night we sighted some Viking ships off this coast.

- Sligon's? - Aye. Aye.

There's something queer going on.

Does anyone in Britain know you're here?

Only King Arthur.

I don't like it, sire.

To get his hands on you and Prince Valiant

Sligon would pay any price.

- Treason begets treason! - Now, Boltar, I cannot let you...

I don't mean Arthur, he's your loyal friend.

But why don't you leave this place?

Go to King Arthur's court at Camelot. You'd be safe there.

When I leave this island, God willing,

I've sworn to go in one direction, Scandia,

to make a try for my kingdom, my sword and the traitor's life.

- If the time is not yet right... - It isn't, sire. It isn't.

In that case, I will send my son to King Arthur.

Alone?

As any young man must go who seeks knighthood.

I, Prince Valiant, son of Aguar of Scandia,

do solemnly pledge on my father's sword,

before me now only in symbol,

to go to Camelot, and there strive with honour and diligence

to become a knight of King Arthur,

son of Uther Pendragon and most Christian king of the Britons.

And when I have become a knight

I pledge to return to my father

and aid him to regain what is rightfully ours

and to restore the Cross of Christ to all our Vikings.

Nor shall I ever rest until Sligon has been destroyed

and the sword he sullied with pagan hands

has been restored to this scabbard.

Always be proud of your Viking blood

but conceal your identity until you reach Camelot.

- I will, sir. - Tell no one where we hide.

King Arthur knows. He'll not inquire.

- To others, answer nothing. - I won't, sir.

Remember the name of Sir Gawain. He is our friend.

He will give you good advice. Follow it.

Pay him homage as a great knight of the Round Table.

- Yes, sir. - Son.

Wear this. God will protect you.

And a good right arm! Hit a lick first, and pray afterwards!

Boltar!

If for any reason we should need you here

before you're knighted, I'll get word to you.

- How, sir? - I'll send you this.

No one can counterfeit its message. Remember it well.

I will, sir.

- Goodbye, Father. - My prince.

Goodbye, Mother.

By Odin, I'd give my soul to go along.

But he'll make it, sire,

just as sure as one day you'll win back your throne.

I'll tell you something, Boltar, I'll never tell another,

not even the queen.

I no longer dream of winning back my throne.

But my son shall sit on it someday if he's as good as I think he is

and time alone will tell that.

My master pledges to land a thousand armed Vikings

on this coast to do your bidding

three months after you deliver the exiles into his hands!

Your name, varlet, before I run you through!

- I'm sorry, sir! - Speak up! Your name!

- I thought you were somebody else. - Liar! Look at my armour.

There's not a scullion in all Britain doesn't know the crest of Sir Gawain.

- Sir Gawain? - Don't pretend you didn't know!

I didn't! I swear I didn't!

Sir Gawain, I'm Prince Valiant. You know my father, King Aguar.

- He's in exile. - Yes, but I'm not.

Sir Gawain, I bring you my mother's greetings and my father's.

They told me you were a good friend.

Wait!

When did Aguar and his queen see me last and where?

In Scandia, a year before they were driven into exile.

Fine prince, you turned out to be, flinging rocks like any lowborn ruffian

I've never been unhorsed by such a scurvy trick!

If I hadn't lost my weapon, sir, I would have done it proper.

Don't be impertinent.

If you're King Aguar's son, why did you fling that rock?

I thought you were the knight who was after me.

- What knight? - All I saw was his black armour.

The Black Knight? You saw him?

I near had his lance in my back. Who is he, sir?

A ghost.

- Ghosts don't chase a man in daylight. - Right.

- But you spoke as if you knew him. - Rumours.

Vague reports at Camelot how a black-armoured knight

appears and vanishes at will.

I don't believe in ghosts. Where did you see him?

- On the coast, sir. - Can you take me to him?

We can try, sir, but after what happened, I'm sure all the Vikings will be gone.

- Viking ships? Here? - Yes, sir. Let me tell you what happened.

Tell me on the way. We must lose no more time.

- I'll show you where I saw him. - Not now.

We go to Camelot. King Arthur must hear of this. Get that lance.

Well, can't you mount a horse as well as you can fling rocks?

But, sir, that's where a maiden rides.

That's right. Get on. Stop wasting time.

You don't have to dismount until we get there, Valiant.

Look!

That's it. Camelot.

Court of King Arthur.

Climb on. You can't slide off downhill.

And then, sire, I dove into the water and stayed submerged

until the Black Knight thought that I'd drowned.

He circled the lake a few times and then left.

I went on my way to Camelot,

and that's where I met Sir Gawain and mistaking him for my pursuer, I...

Never mind that, lad! King Arthur knows we met.

The point is, sire, that what was rumour now takes human form.

This is no phantom.

Our duty is to find this Black Knight

and destroy him before his treason ripens.

Aye.

Where is your sire, Prince Valiant?

- In exile, sir. - Where?

There's your answer, Sir Brack.

That's the way I would have it.

Yes, of course. I hadn't thought.

I agree, sire, with Sir Gawain.

The fellow who goes in black armour is certainly no knight.

To credit him with that would be to cast a slur on every knight in the realm.

- Well spoken, Sir Brack. - And therefore I say

that his unlawful disguise endangers his life

more than it threatens this kingdom

for even a knave must know the penalty

for wearing the armour of a knight when he's not entitled to the honour.

Aye. And the more proof that he plots treason.

A man does not risk banishment or death in borrowed armour

unless the stakes are high.

We'll speak no more of it now.

Forewarned is forearmed.

And for that we owe Prince Valiant.

How shall we repay you, son of Scandia?

Make me a knight, sire.

You mean you wish to train as a novice?

- No, Sir King. To become a knight. - Immediately?

Yes, sire. A knight of the Round Table.

- Valiant! - What's wrong?

- Hold your tongue and stand up. - Let me explain, Sir Gawain.

It is clear that you have little knowledge of what knighthood means.

In how many tournaments have you fought?

What deeds have you done?

Have you killed any enemies of our realm?

Knighthood cannot be had for the asking.

It is not enough to be highborn.

Look around.

You will see many kings' sons concealed behind their armour.

They prefer to be called Sir Knight.

Sir Gawain, who brought you here.

Perhaps he failed to tell you

that he is the son of our friend, King Lot.

Sir Lancelot would not exchange his knighthood for any kingdom.

Nor would Sir Tristram, famed throughout our world.

Nor Sir Galahad, the pride of Christendom,

who seeks the Holy Grail.

Yonder is Sir Brack,

who claims descent from Constans,

great king of Britain who was my own father's father.

To be a Viking prince means nothing here.

I will give you whatever lies within my power

but knighthood must be won.

If that's where your aim lies, you must start by becoming a squire.

I'll take him, sire.

Oh, never mind, Sir Brack. I'll train him.

But I have no squire at the moment.

Nor have I.

I've never had a Viking for a squire.

Then avoid it. This lad is full of Viking tricks.

I'll tell you how we met, though I hadn't intended to.

He crowned me with a rock.

In that case, Sir Gawain,

I think we must assign Prince Valiant's tutelage to you,

or do you not agree, Sir Brack?

Of course, sire. I hadn't known about the Viking fashion of crowning.

I promise Sir Gawain that I shall watch his new squire's progress

with fascinated interest.

- You see the red spot on that quintain? - Yes, I do.

Now, keep your eye on it and go! And don't stop!

Hold that shield up. Up, to protect your head. Try it.

That's better. Not quite so low. Try it on me.

See what I mean? Give me three.

Better, but your footwork is off. Let the weight come after the blow. So.

You see what I mean?

Keep your shield up. Up!

My... My foot slipped.

Yes, it is a little wet there. That's enough for today.

You're learning fast, squire.

You handle a horse and lance like a knight.